Abstract
Otis Moss was born in Georgia in 1935. Before graduating from Morehouse College he became a Minister. He moved to Cleveland in 1975 to pastor Olivet Institutional Baptist. He worked with Martin Luther King Jr. and has spent his life working for civil rights and social justice. This 2017 interview was collected as part of a yearlong, community-wide commemoration of the 50th anniversary of Carl Stokes' election as mayor of Cleveland.
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Interviewee
Moss, Otis (interviewee)
Interviewer
Perry, Dee (interviewer)
Project
Stokes: Honoring the Past, Inspiring the Future
Date
1-6-2017
Document Type
Oral History
Duration
105 minutes
Recommended Citation
"Otis Moss interview, 06 January 2017" (2017). Cleveland Regional Oral History Collection. Interview 501032.
https://engagedscholarship.csuohio.edu/crohc000/1190
Transcript
Dee Perry [00:00:36] It is Friday, January 6th. We're at Tri-C Metro’s Mainstage Theatre. I’m getting ready to talk with Reverend Otis Moss for the Stokes Commemoration Project. And it is Reverend Moss, and you’re set to go. And where I want to begin is in 1961. Before that, you had been pastoring some congregations in Atlanta, but in that year you moved to Ohio to pastor Mount Zion Baptist Church in Lockland, Ohio. What made you say yes to that position?
Otis Moss [00:00:59] I started out my whole life in Georgia, LaGrange, and then Atlanta for college and seminary and some further graduate studies at the Interdenominational Theological Center. The year 1961 was really a dramatic year, a fulfilling year, and a challenging year. It was the year we signed the agreement in Atlanta, the student movement and the business community, to desegregate public facilities in Atlanta. It was also the year that I was called to a church in Ohio, southern Ohio, Lockland, part of Greater Cincinnati, and a church in Atlanta. The church in Cincinnati called early in the year of 1961, and after prayerful consideration, I said yes. Shortly thereafter, a church in Atlanta, in addition to the church I was already serving, extended the call. It was a strong appeal, but based on moral integrity, I could not say yes. They later called the Reverend Abernathy, and that was the beginning of my first experience out beyond the Deep South, which was a remarkable transition. I had visited cities in the North, as we called it, especially during the summers of my college years. But I had never served in that capacity and did not quite know what to expect. But I quickly found out what it was like, and it was a fulfilling and challenging experience. So many similarities I found in Lockland, Ohio.
Dee Perry [00:03:29] Similarities to Atlanta or to the Deep South in general?
Otis Moss [00:03:33] The Deep South in general. For instance, across the street from the church in Lockland, Ohio, was a segregated school. The elementary school was segregated. The high school was desegregated. The elementary school was segregated because it was located in a predominantly African American neighborhood. So the white parents and school officials did not want their children to come into the African American neighborhood. But it was all right for the Black children to walk out of their neighborhood to the predominantly white high school. And I quickly saw the great similarities. The names were somewhat different, and we found ourselves in a school challenge in southern Ohio. But there's another chapter here. One of the representatives of the church in Cincinnati visited me to discuss relocation on a picket line in Atlanta. I'm wearing a sign, "Segregation Must Go," and he is telling me how much they desired to have me come to the church in Cincinnati, with this understanding: We have so many of the same problems, and we need a young person like you to help us in the struggle. Excuse me. I was not sure how deeply entrenched those issues would be, but I quickly learned. So you might say I went from one picket line in Atlanta to another in Cincinnati.
Dee Perry [00:06:00] During the years at Mount Zion, you were also serving as an officer of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. And before we talk about what you did, I want to have you describe what the conference was, what its mission was.
Otis Moss [00:06:18] The Southern Christian Leadership Conference was founded in 1957 as an outgrowth of the Montgomery movement. And it was this new, dynamic, spiritual, human rights, civil rights challenge to all of the evils of segregation and discrimination. The theme of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference from its founding was "redeeming the soul of America." I had an opportunity to sit in on one or two of the founding meetings. Dr. King was presiding. I was a student, and I had an opportunity to listen to the voices of persons like Dr. King, Dr. Shuttlesworth of Birmingham, Dr. Abernathy, Mrs. King. Because while they were in that founding discussion, I think five, I believe, churches, five churches in Montgomery, were bombed as SCLC, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, was being organized. Dr. King and Dr. Abernathy had to leave the meeting and go back to Montgomery. And Mrs. King, Mrs. Coretta Scott King, continued to preside along with the Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth. It was that kind of background, that kind of experience. Dr. King joined us in the student sit-in movement in Atlanta and went to jail with us. So there was this connection. I was also vice president of the Atlanta chapter of the NAACP, probably the youngest vice president they had experienced. So this connection — the student movement, the NAACP, and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference — as I look back on it, was somewhat unique, especially at an age of being in your early twenties, a pastor of a church and a student all together. When I relocated to Cincinnati, Dr. King asked if I would take on the responsibility of being a regional representative of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference for southern Ohio. And I immediately said yes.
Dee Perry [00:09:29] You were with Dr. King for the 1963 March on Washington, and I wanted to have you describe the atmosphere of that event, what people were thinking and feeling at that moment.
Otis Moss [00:09:51] Two years after my arrival in Cincinnati and becoming involved in the work of the church, becoming engaged in the work in Cincinnati. And the summer of 1963 was a tremendous outpouring of activity, nonviolent protest demonstrations throughout the South. And I had the opportunity of representing SCLC in southern Ohio and also calling press conferences and calling upon the community to join in parallel demonstrations in our location to show support and to join them when necessary. We did that. It was also my first opportunity to travel abroad. And while I was traveling in Africa, West Africa, the Holy Land, and Europe, I was informed about a plan growing out of the Birmingham Movement, a plan for the March on Washington. I could hardly wait, even though the trip was greatly fulfilling, and I feel the blessings from it even now. But as soon as I returned home, my wife and I, we started helping to mobilize the community of Cincinnati, Greater Cincinnati, for participation in the march. And I must say, along with all of the enthusiastic persons, young people, adults, across denominational and racial lines — Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, and others — everyone was engaged, the whole city, in terms of civil rights consciousness. United buses were chartered, and the train was chartered, so to speak. We bought up a number of seats on the train, and there are some backstories to that as well. And when we arrived in Washington, I went in ahead of our delegation. Early morning, August 28, some people on the newscasting networks were raising questions about whether or not people were going to turn out or what it was going to be like. How dangerous was it? And then suddenly they began to say, They are coming. They are coming. They're coming from everywhere. And at that moment, you could look around and feel the national and international presence of something special. To be in that moment in history is beyond words. To stand and listen and watch and embrace people you've never seen before, and some, perhaps, you will never see again. To stand in the midst of 250,000 people united in voice, purpose, spirit. You knew that something special was taking place. And then to hear the voices across the nation and feel that moment of unity. Someone asked Dr. King what was the meaning of that gathering. And he said, We subpoenaed the conscience of the nation. And to hear his voice on that day united with the other voices. But Dr. King's message was, and shall remain, historic, prophetic, and unifying. It called people into action, something that many people do not remember from that march. At the end of the program, there was an appeal for all of us to go back to our local communities and hold marches and demonstrations to continue what we had experienced in Washington, D.C., on that great day. And we did that in Cincinnati. We held the march. Thirty thousand people turned out. One of the consequences, or one of the impacts of that, was the election of the late attorney Ted Berry to the Cincinnati City Council. He had once served on that council, and he had served as vice mayor, and he thought he was moving into retirement. He had said to a group of us, as he appealed to us to carry on the work—I remember his words—he said, My sun is setting. I want to know what you're going to do, and I want to help. We called him back into the arena, and he eventually became the first African American mayor of the city of Cincinnati.
Dee Perry [00:16:52] Was that before Carl Stokes became the mayor of Cleveland in 1968?
Otis Moss [00:17:00] No, it was after Carl Stokes.
Dee Perry [00:17:05] Now that I've raised that name, want to make the connection between everything that was happening nationally in the '60s. The March. Selma incident in 1965. That was the year that Carl Stokes first ran for mayor of Cleveland. He had been in the Ohio legislature. So my first question, I guess I'm circling all around that to say, were you aware of Stokes as an Ohio legislator in that period of time?
Otis Moss [00:17:44] During that period of time, we're talking about the ’60s, the early now to the mid-'60s. During that period, there was a special kind of connection within the state of Ohio and the nation. We were constantly following events all over the nation, and in some instances, we were in touch with, conversant with, the people. Ohio was, in a sense, unique. Why was it unique? Every week we were reading the Cincinnati Herald, the Call and Post, the Cleveland Call and Post, and there were relationships politically and within the Black church. So we were really in fellowship. We followed the events. Although we did not necessarily have a personal relationship with all of the players, we knew who was doing what and what was happening. For instance, when Bruce Klunder was killed in Cleveland, we immediately held memorial services in Cincinnati to identify with the pain, the struggle, the tragedy, and to also lift our voices and call on our communities to face these issues and do something about the terrible circumstances that brought about this tragedy. So there was this communication, there was this knowledge, this following of each other's strivings, and we knew about the Carl Stokes leadership and position, and we were excited about his announcement and effort in Cleveland to become the mayor of the City of Cleveland.
Dee Perry [00:20:19] Dr. King came to town in 1965 to help in that effort, to help organize, to help spread the word, to help make sure that people were signed up to vote. That effort was not successful, but in 1967, he did the same thing. I wondered if you were involved in that in either 1965 or 1967?
Otis Moss [00:20:49] I was not involved directly, but as a member of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, SCLC, we were constantly conversant with what was taking place. And I had a conversation, or I should say conversations, with Dr. King and staff members of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. I knew my predecessor at the Olivet Institutional Baptist Church, Dr. O. M. Hoover, quite well, and his daughter Carole. Carole Hoover was one of the youngest staff members of SCLC. And part of her assignment, in addition to fundraising, was communication with the church community, the religious community, and to serve as a linkage in terms of Dr. King's work. I understand that in 1967, Dr. King brought the senior staff of SCLC to Cleveland, Ohio, to work in the movement for the election of Mayor Carl Stokes. On one occasion, Dr. King and Ambassador Andrew Young said to me and others that they were able, through those years and months of work, they were able to register or re-register close to 50,000 voters. And when you think that Carl Stokes, in 1967, won by, I believe, fewer than 3,000 votes, you can see the critical factor in the presence of Dr. King, the leadership and commitment. Think about bringing the entire senior staff of a major organization and putting them in the streets of Cleveland to inspire, to organize, to register and re-register. The Olivet Institutional Baptist Church was headquarters. That same summer, before Carl Stokes was elected, Dr. King called a conference in the city of Chicago and invited all of us to come to talk about what the implications and requirements of the movement were at that moment. And one of the keynote speakers was Carl Stokes. And Dr. King, at that moment, was laying the foundation not only for a major breakthrough politically, but also a major breakthrough economically under the title of the Poor People's Campaign. And out of that emerged the national thrust of what we then called Operation Breadbasket.
Dee Perry [00:24:52] And give us a sense of what the idea behind that operation was. What was it supposed to do?
Otis Moss [00:25:02] Now, Operation Breadbasket was begun in Atlanta, and it grew out of the inspiration that had been generated by the late Dr. Leon Sullivan of Philadelphia. He spent time in Atlanta communicating with Dr. King and the staff about what was happening in Philadelphia, how they were doing it. Out of that emerged the title Operation Breadbasket, the underlying principle being economic justice. Now, let's go back for a moment to '67, 1967, Chicago. In Dr. King's presentation, he outlined three disturbing evils troubling our nation: racism, poverty, and war, especially the war in Vietnam. And these were not just American challenges; they were world challenges. Then he became specific. He said it did not cost America anything to desegregate lunch counters. Nothing did it cost except maybe a little arrogance. But he said, It will cost billions of dollars to eliminate poverty and gain economic justice. And we must focus on an economic agenda, and appealed to each of us to return to our local communities and add a new dimension to the local efforts of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, namely, an Operation Breadbasket initiative, which would address all of the economic injustices at the local level. What kind of hiring policies are in place? Where is the concept of equal employment opportunity? That's where we must focus. And that is what we did throughout the community. Chicago was a model. We organized, and this organization, our division, department, if you will, of SCLC, Operation Breadbasket, became a model for organizing in the local communities. First, do your research. After doing the research, give that information to the entire community. And with that, mobilize the community. Draw up a set of demands moving toward a more just society, and select companies and institutions and ask or demand that they begin to do certain things, especially in the area of equal employment. So we looked at bread companies and milk companies, or dairy products, and department stores and started that work. And in every city, some kind of set of demands was made. And in many instances, if not all, selective patronage campaigns were organized. And that was Operation Breadbasket, enlarging the economic foundation of communities and persons who had been discriminated against. And it was a tremendously successful victory — not total, because there's much yet to be done in that area.
Dee Perry [00:30:16] In Cleveland, Carl Stokes had a vision for that kind of leveling of the playing field, a plan that he tried to put into action called Cleveland: NOW! But at the same time, his brother, Louis Stokes, was making a national footprint as Ohio's first Black congressman. Was the Louis Stokes impact something that you felt in southern Ohio at the time that you were there?
Otis Moss [00:30:57] The Carl Stokes impact, politically, was a national chapter in political liberation. Following his election as the first African American mayor of a major metropolitan city, there was a kind of awakening. And, of course, this was followed by Gary, Indiana, happening almost simultaneously in the same year, Cleveland a few days ahead of Gary. That was a positive awakening, a determination to create change. And we began to look at the total number of elected officials nationwide, and then what percentage of that number was African American. And when we looked at the total number of elected officials and the small number of African Americans, that within itself was a call to action. And Cleveland was the great example of what could be done, what should be done, and how it could be done. It was the center of modeling for political action, movement, and success. It became the staging moment, the learning, the teaching. And Carl Stokes was the reference and the inspiration. At the same time, this young civil rights attorney, Louis Stokes, was taking a case all the way to federal court dealing with redistricting, and he won a precedent-setting case. It opened the door for new political leadership and development in Cleveland and the state of Ohio. And it became a teaching moment, a vibrant moment, for the entire nation. And here, coming out of the projects, coming out of public housing projects, two lawyer brothers became the symbols of what could be achieved against the odds. Two brothers out of a single-parent home whose father had died when they were quite young. Two brothers walking together, working together, and representing to the Cleveland community and to the nation what great strides could be made out of the housing project, onto college and university and professional school, law school, and then coming back to the community and serving the present age. This became a new chapter in political and social development for our nation. And this is the great chapter in American democracy, shall we say. It's a liberation chapter in our nation’s history, the Louis Stokes–Carl Stokes era. And that story has to be told and retold, but it also needs to be given in terms of all of the forces, the participation, the civic groups, the individuals, the young people, the elders, the churches who participated in that network and brought about tremendous social, economic, and political change.
Dee Perry [00:36:39] You just reminded me of something that I wanted to ask, and this is as good a time as any, about the role of the church in the Black community in from really slavery days and pre-slavery days and up to now? Has it, was it more important in those earlier days than it is? Or do you see continuing impact of the church when we look at the Black struggle, the African American struggle, this struggle for a more perfect union?
Otis Moss [00:37:00] The African American church has been and remains, I think, an absolute necessity. When you look at all of the church bombings and burnings, the dynamiting of churches, people do not spend time dynamiting a building if that building and what is happening in it have no relevance. So from the beginning, if you go back to Mother Bethel in Philadelphia and its founding, and Mother Emanuel in Charleston, South Carolina, you can get a great lesson regarding the necessity, the role, and the presence of the African American church. I've often said, long before we could meet at City Hall, we could meet in the church sanctuary, the basement, the auditorium, the room, wherever the space was. And interestingly enough, our Black institutions of higher learning found a home, a founding place, in the Black church. Now much of that has changed because other avenues have opened up, and the leadership, rightfully so, has spread. It is not just pulpit-centered, but in a variety of places. And that's good. But this does not mean that we can withdraw, sit down, and turn it over to somebody else. We must remain together. The great legal work of Thurgood Marshall changed the whole paradigm in terms of making racism illegal. It was always immoral, but it was not always illegal. Some of these fights we have to do over. Thurgood Marshall, in every town, found a place, a home, an embrace, and support in the Black church. It was the prophetic voice. It was the home of the Civil Rights Movement. There were few other institutions in the community: the lodges, the Masonic orders, and, interestingly enough, the funeral home. And there’s a reason for that. That was an independent Black business and service that was sustained by Black customers, if you will. So all of these connected. All of that has been altered to some extent. And some of that expansion was inevitable, necessary, and good, some of which I think we might have lost ground in some of the areas across the years. And we have to revisit what has been lost, what has been gained, and what are we going to do about it. The picture sometimes gets altered. The players are different. New generations are born and come forth with sometimes new language, like Black Lives Matter. However, that message is not totally different from 1909. The National Association — the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People — Black lives matter. At that moment, we were being lynched, according to Dr. W. E. B. Du Bois, two every six and a half days. So the NAACP was really saying to the nation and the world, Black lives matter. The African American church, the AME Church, the AME Zion Church, the Black Baptists, the CME Church, all are lifting up that Black life is precious. And included in that, and predicated on that, is the principle that all life is sacred. But if society behaves in such a way that it sends the notion, intentionally or unintentionally, that some life is more precious than other life, then somebody must raise the moral standard and go from some to all. But we can never ignore the individual. Neither can we ignore the universal.
Dee Perry [00:44:05] There's so much I want to ask, but think I'd probably better move ahead to your time at Olivet, which began in, at the end, I think, of 1974. Reverend Hoover had passed away a year before. What forces were you juggling at that time to say, yes, I must come to Cleveland or must do something else?
Otis Moss [00:44:41] When the question is asked, What moved you to go from Cincinnati to Cleveland? I must say, on my part, it was not by design. I had no idea that I would be coming to Cleveland. We had just purchased several acres of land in Cincinnati to build a new facility. We had approval for the development of 100 housing units. And it was an exciting moment. And I was invited to come to Cleveland and speak at Olivet in celebration of the 43rd church anniversary. I came in late that night, spoke in the morning worship, and caught the next flight out for a program back home in Cincinnati. After that, there were several calls that went something like this: We're going to be calling a new pastor in the next few weeks, the next several days. This was toward the end of the year, November. Would you permit us to enter your name as the next pastor? My first response was no, I'm engaged. I am a member of the Board of Trustees of the University of Cincinnati, which provided some special opportunities. We're just doing some things that I'm engaged in, and I am feeling, feeling fulfilled. But a few more calls came, and I have been taught that in the ministry, you are not the last word. The One who called you into this work is the One who has the last word. Have you considered where God might be leading you? This caused me to enter into a period of fervent prayer. And out of that, I said yes to the search committee. They presented my name and issued a call, and, as they say, the rest is history. That became my home for the next 33 years, succeeding a great national and international leader in the person of the late Dr. O. M. Hoover. And the years here have been fulfilling, great years, with all of the challenges and opportunities that go with serving in the ministry and trying to serve the present age and being part of the struggle for justice through commitment to nonviolent action and nonviolent protest, and living out, or trying to live out, those principles in one's personal and community life.
Dee Perry [00:49:44] On the note of community life, I'm wondering what you found in terms of the legacy of Carl Stokes. That is, he had been out of the mayor’s office for three or four years at that point. And I'm wondering if you saw anything that he left behind in terms of programs, policies, actual things that were going on in the city that said, Yes, he made an impact. Or, conversely, if you saw things that might have been in place and were being dismantled?
Otis Moss [00:50:33] You know, when we look at a generation of leadership and the key players in that process, I think we will forever be referencing the Carl Stokes era. When I arrived in Cleveland in 1975, I immediately saw the great legacy in the community of Carl Stokes. That was the great legacy of Dr. Hoover at Olivet. And it happened to have been a mayoral election year. And guess what? A member of Olivet who had worked with Carl Stokes and Congressman Louis Stokes — Mayor Carl Stokes, Congressman Stokes — Arnold Pinkney was running for mayor of Cleveland. And I saw this as a great opportunity to carry on the legacy of Carl Stokes and, as the common phrase goes, to go on to the next level. He did not win. But I think his run for mayor — the second time he had done that, in ’71, I believe — was necessary because my friend Jesse Jackson says that if you run, you might win. If you don't run, you can't win. So it's that kind of continuation. Something else was happening that connected me with the community dynamic of Cincinnati, Atlanta, and Cleveland. I had served now in each one of these cities. When I was in Atlanta the last time with Daddy King, Dr. Martin Luther King Sr., we were in the midst of trying to get metropolitan transit service in Atlanta. It was MARTA. It passed by a small margin, about 2,500 votes. And now it's one of the major examples of public transportation in the nation. In Cincinnati, we also had been engaged in enlarging public transportation, similar to, but not as massive as, Atlanta. And then I found the Greater Cleveland Regional Transit Authority on the ballot. And one of the things I said from the pulpit was, If we pass this measure, for less than the cost of a gallon of gas or gasoline, you can ride all across Cleveland. This is essential. This is important. And to see that at the community, the metropolitan level, if you look at these three cities, all of them are dealing with urgent, critical public-service issues. So the ministry finds a connection from the pulpit to the bus ride. And if you think about Rosa Parks, the bus has seemingly been part of our struggle for the last six decades. And somehow that transportation paradigm won't leave us, will not leave us. America is deficient in public transportation. If you don’t believe it, experience public transportation in Europe or Japan and compare it with what we are offering the American public. So this is not a digression. I'm not digressing, but I'm simply saying that these critical social issues are constantly coming home. And who’s going to ride the bus? Who’s going to eat at the lunch counter? Who is going to be blessed by equal employment opportunities? Our church members, our students, our children, our grandchildren, and members of the community, whether they are renting an apartment or in homeownership, all of these issues connect. So our work is never, never so perfected that we can sit down and go to sleep, give up. We must struggle from generation to generation and then pass it on to the next generation. Bless them and strengthen them, that they might carry on and do an even better job, God willing, than we have done in the past.
Dee Perry [00:57:06] In your role as longtime pastor of Olivet and as you described, a social activist most of your life, did you develop a working relationship with Congressman Lou Stokes over the years?
Otis Moss [00:57:27] The question of my relationship with Congressman Louis Stokes is a very interesting one because he was present at my installation at Olivet and was kind enough to enter the program into the Congressional Record. Not just a relationship, but a long and cherished friendship developed with Congressman Stokes and the Stokes family. It was much deeper than one election to the other. It was an abiding friendship. And his work, his commitment, was not just Cleveland-deep; it was nation-deep, nationwide. When my alma mater, Morehouse College, decided to initiate a medical school, a medical college, Congressman Stokes, as part of the Appropriations Committee in Congress, was instrumental in getting a multimillion-dollar grant to start the medical education program. So his work was just so meaningful, not just for the 21st Congressional District or the 11th Congressional District in Greater Cleveland, but all over the nation. And I think these are the kinds of relationships that we must develop nationwide with elected officials all over the nation, because their decisions, their presence, their votes will impact all of us every day. There are 535 members of Congress, 435 congresspersons, and each one of those persons represents a district. And those districts will bring resources that will impact the oldest citizen and the youngest child in the nation. We must see that as their representation and handling of national resources, and seeing that those resources are distributed in such a way that we are all blessed. And that's a struggle. And that struggle is going to continue.
Dee Perry [01:00:52] I'm thinking that when you first came to Cleveland, there were issues that you saw that you personally wanted to get behind to help make a difference. What were some of those things that you saw immediately that you said need addressing?
Otis Moss [01:01:16] Every community faces, and will always face, critical issues. Many of those will be related to human rights and civil rights, public safety, representation, economic opportunities. And in Cleveland, there was a need for the building of strong, or stronger, coalitions and the testing of programs and projects, one of which was the Greater Cleveland Roundtable, made up of Black and white religious leaders, business leaders, educators, labor leaders, and other aspects of the community, sitting at the table, looking at how we can move an agenda forward that will benefit all people and make Cleveland a more livable and more just area. There were some breakthroughs at that level. One of the things we did at the Greater Cleveland Roundtable was to commission a study on the shape, the condition, of race relations in Greater Cleveland. The findings of that study were not new. We discovered that a third of the people in Cuyahoga County believed in segregation. We're talking about the '70s, the '80s, and almost as many felt that there should be laws to enforce such. Now, if you look at great historic breakthroughs at one level — the election of Louis Stokes to Congress or Carl Stokes as mayor — you can be excited about these historic breakthroughs. But if you look under that and see what some of the remaining hardcore attitudinal dynamics are, you know that we have a job to do. I think maybe our nation has failed in the last few decades to admit these dangerous and critical phenomena. And because we have failed to admit that these dangers exist, we have allowed them to grow and fester. And the response comes out in unhealthy, unwholesome, dangerous expressions. We must be retaught in every generation what the dangers are, what the unhealthy attitudes and private opinions are that will be acted out publicly, and what's happening to us economically, politically, in the educational arena, and what is happening to us morally. And unless we are willing to do that over and over and over, from era to era, decade to decade, and generation to generation, we will find ourselves repeating some of the dangerous, explosive, criminal, immoral practices and behavior. What do prisons for profit do to humanity? What do these things do? Prisons for profit? Prisons for profit. That’s equal to slaves for profit. But we invest in it and close our eyes to the moral implications. So somebody has to call us to order continually. That's just one example. What is happening to us educationally? What is happening to us spiritually, in the very language? One of the great things about the leadership of Dr. King was he gave the nation a creative vocabulary so we could communicate with civility even if we did not agree. And I think one of the assignments of the church is to constantly give to the community a civil and spiritual vocabulary. And that has to also happen in the school curriculum. And this is a job that no one person or generation can complete. It must be a continuum in our day-to-day living. And we must constantly find creative ways of raising disturbing questions and confronting those conditions. It cannot be created in an annual march or an annual demonstration. It's a daily task. I have often said, in the days when the topic of nonviolence was more popular than it is today, that nonviolence does not begin on a picket line or in a demonstration. It begins at home. How do I relate to my spouse? How do we relate to each other? How do we relate to our children? What happens in the classroom? What happens at the gathering point? How do we teach conflict resolution starting at a very, very early age? And language is important. Words matter always. And I think that's part of the mission of the church and the religious community, to constantly touch and teach that every word we utter is important. And that's a major challenge in this technological age, where you can do a tweet overnight and create a conversation, either pleasant or unpleasant, civilized or uncivilized. But I got off the subject here. I think the subject was-
Dee Perry [01:09:59] But that was part of the subject, too. What needs you saw the city having and what actions were taken. But I'm also curious about - because you're talking about needing an ongoing kind of awareness - if you see the impact of the Stokes brothers as being part of that awareness, or is there something new, some new kind of conversation, some new kind of hero that needs to come on the scene?
Otis Moss [01:10:48] When I remember the Stokes era, the Stokes brothers, I think it's important for each of us to realize that every decade is not going to produce Carl Stokes and Louis Stokes, Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, Thurgood Marshall. But we must take all of the lessons learned from them and all that produced them and utilize those lessons, repeat them, and teach them. And eventually — well, not eventually, but in the process — there will emerge a great teacher, a great organizer, a great scientist, a great artist. All of these blessings lift the community and the nation, so we can never just sit back and wait for a new Moses. We must be the conscience of the community. We must represent the excellence we need to build community. We must be engaged in affordable health care. We must know that our nation's greatest defense department is our educational curriculum, is the curriculum of education. All of the guns in the world will not save us if we are losing children at the kindergarten and the elementary and high school and college levels, if we enslave a generation with student debt. As poor as we were in the student sit-in movement, we graduated debt-free. So we were free enough to protest. It's hard to protest if you're weighted down with a $100,000 student loan. How are you going to spend time sacrificing on a picket line or in jail or whatever, if you’ve got to meet this kind of debt? And it robs the nation of great creativity. And this is the kind of call we must make on a daily basis. That is, you don’t have to have a charismatic leader every day of the week in order to be committed to doing the great thing, the excellent thing, or the right thing.
Dee Perry [01:14:39] I'm thinking those charismatic leaders that we were talking about — Dr. King and the Stokes brothers and yourself — have been part of a movement. When people talk about the Civil Rights Movement, they're generally talking about something that happened back then. Do you see any mechanism now, in this day, or does one need to be created, that is a movement"
Otis Moss [01:15:13] There is always, drawing from our own experience, we will forever have the need for a movement, the kind of dynamic that inspires and lifts people without diminishing them. But it will not always come in the same shape and design. Harriet Tubman can come back in Marian Wright Edelman, and Marian Wright Edelman can come back in a creative kindergarten teacher or counselor, or someone who takes the time to counsel an individual who is facing some troubling, painful reality, one who has been bullied because of shape, color, size, or gender. These are revolutionary experiences that may not make the headlines or the evening news, but they can change the world. When I think about the teenager from Pakistan saying, One book, one pen, one teacher, one student can change the world. Now, if this Pakistani child can risk her life to get an education and set an example for a generation, my, my. Think of the power we have to make a difference where we stand. And I think that is the kind of teaching that should come forth from pulpit to pew to classroom to community. And these are the kinds of small transformational changes that can make a difference. When I was standing at the age of 16 by a wrecked automobile that had my father in it, and he was dead, in tears, wondering what I would do, I felt a warm arm around my shoulder and heard the voice of a neighbor that said, You can come home with me. As long as I live, you have a place to stay. I accepted that invitation my last year in high school and went from that to a borrowed address and on to college. But if no one had been there, I don't know what would have happened. And there is somebody standing this day, robbed of that which they should have without question. But somebody must put their arms around that individual and say, You have a place in my heart, in my home, in my life, and you can go on to make a difference.
Dee Perry [01:19:38] Another part of that story, though, is the foundation that's laid up to that breaking-point moment. You mentioned your father, Otis Moss Sr. And wondered what example he and your mother, your family, provided for you that set your feet on the right path in the beginning.
Otis Moss [01:20:05] I am forever grateful, as I reference my father, who was killed in an automobile accident when I was 16, a junior in high school. Our mother died when we were all young. I was four years old, and my younger brother was seven months old. And there were three older sisters. So my father became a single parent with five minor children. He never remarried. He never gave up. He did the best he could with a sixth-grade education, a sharecropper on the one hand, and working in the public programs of the Roosevelt administration on the other. He did his best, and with the limited time that we had, we heard his stories. The story of slavery that he received from his father, who was born enslaved. The songs of our mother we never forgot, who had been a country schoolteacher, left us too soon. All of those visible and invisible supports, we could not interpret at that moment in our lives. But they were there, connected with neighbors, the church community, and a dilapidated school, all becoming part of a lasting support system against the terrible odds of racism and segregation. I have often told the story of my father walking 18 to 20 miles one day trying to vote. He was unsuccessful. By the time the next election came around, he was dead. But I still have the memory of his walking, walking, and walking, trying to vote. So for me to go to Selma, to join the Selma March, was to say, Papa, I'm walking for you, in your memory. Or to go to the polls, or to take our children to the polls to vote, or to the voter registration office for the first time. All of these things become part of our memory bank and our necessity for action and continuing the struggle.
Dee Perry [01:23:38] In that continuation, what do you think the biggest or at least the top challenges are for society today?
Otis Moss [01:23:53] There is a moral challenge. Our children must see and feel and hear messages that make sense and make a difference. Education has no substitute. And that must begin before the child is born, an atmosphere that begins a special kind of nurturing. Civic participation— One way of putting it would be voter education, voter registration, and voter participation. If you take these away, if you interfere with those in any possible way, you damage democracy and you damage a generation. Not enough of us are acting on that on a daily basis. There's no substitute for that. There's no substitute for a healthy meal where the brain and the body can develop, and a learning environment where children can feel secure and loved. One of my greatest educators was my second-grade teacher. I fell in love with her. It was a heavy situation, and guess what? I still remember her. She gave me the opportunity to participate in my first oratorical contest in the second grade. I still remember the little recitation she gave me: "I had little nut tree, Nothing would it bear, But silver nutmeg and golden pear. The King of Spain's daughter came to visit me, All because of my nut tree, my little nut tree. I skipped over water, danced over sea, And all the birds in the air could not catch me." I won the contest. But she had a sense of creativity. She did not declare me the winner. She asked the whole class to vote on the winner. And I got a unanimous vote, and she approved the vote. And, you know, I didn't just say that because of Miss Hatch, because I dreamed about her every night, except those nights that I didn’t dream at all. And I saw her 40 years later. She had had a paralyzing stroke. My sister helped me to track her down, and I went to her and thanked her 40 years later for having brought— How can I put it? When she looked at me and smiled, it made my education worthwhile. It is these kinds of experiences that children and adults hunger for, and we must create them. So you don’t have to be a charismatic, historic figure to do that. But if you do it in the space you occupy, or we occupy, we can make a difference in the lives of individuals and communities.
Dee Perry [01:28:26] I want to make sure there's nothing missed that's crucial. Oh, actually, in the early part, when you were at Morehouse College, who would you point to as a mentor? And how important were - are - mentors, do you think, for the kind of ongoing leadership that you're talking about?
Otis Moss [01:29:08] When we speak of education, whether it's at the beginning level or at the college level and graduate school level, we always need counselors, mentors, a support system. I had the great blessing of going to Morehouse College with a great president and a great faculty. Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays, our college president, served Morehouse for 27 years. He never ceased to challenge us with statements like, Whatever you do, do it so well that no one living, no one dead, or no one unborn could do it any better. To hear that every week in chapel, which was required at that time, sounds like ancient history. He was constantly challenging us, saying to us, Education is good for its own sake. It’s better to be literate than to be illiterate. But education, he said, is also good for self-protection. It will help you keep evil, low-down, mean people off your back and off your neck. Education is good for aesthetics. It helps you to appreciate the valuable things of life. But education is necessary for service. It will equip you to serve the present age with meaningfulness and leave your mark in the world to such an extent, he said, that even those who don’t like you will have to respect you. I think about President Obama when I think about this. This was, you know, over 50 years ago, that kind of mentoring. Those of us who gathered in that college, thanks be to God, came from all kinds of circumstances. Some of us came from circumstances of the rural South where we were called "boy" and "darky" and "colored" and the n-word. And we got to Morehouse, and the president said, Mr. Moss. Now, my goodness, that was revolutionary within itself. And our teachers, our instructors, our professors did likewise in college. It was my major professor who took the case of segregation on the Atlanta buses into federal court and won. So to be under that kind of instruction, to be mentored by men and women of that kind of commitment, who cared as much about what you did outside of the classroom as they did about your performance in the classroom, and years after still had concern about, How are you doing? How are you getting along? — ready to write recommendations or counsel you on how to put together a résumé or how to prepare for this assignment beyond the classroom — that was family there. Every professor became a counselor. If you made a statement that didn't make sense, it did not matter whether that professor was in chemistry or biology, philosophy or theology. They called you to task and helped you without diminishing you. That was the kind of mentorship I received, not for four years, but for seven years—four years of college and three years of seminary, and then beyond. So it also said to me that this is what you must do for the rest of your life. So one of the greatest joys I've received over my more than half a century of public life is to encourage a student, to write a recommendation, or sometimes advocate for someone whose grade-point average is not in the four-point category, but get them a place and say to them, Now, I think I can help you get in, but you’ve got to stay in. That’s going to be on you. And to see some of those students graduate Phi Beta Kappa - what great fulfillment. Go on to graduate school or come back, come out as professors and scientists. That is what gives meaning to your mission and your journey.
Dee Perry [01:36:05] Before we run out of time, I wanted to- Yeah. And I think in the course of the end, there's pretty much everything that we needed. Is there- So if there's nothing else you have, then I just wanted to ask Reverend Moss if there's anything that didn't touch on that you just wanted to say, I must make this point?
Otis Moss [01:36:47] The one area that we might say something about is the present crisis we face and the despair that's running through our community as a result of the last election. One, if you were to ask me, What do you see following last November 8th? I would say millions of people, not just in our own nation but around the world, are facing a moment of despair, a sense of defeat. Some may be angry. Some feel that they have been demeaned. They're not wrong. But I think it is the responsibility of persons of my generation to say, Can you imagine how my father felt when he walked 18 miles and could not vote because he was disallowed? Can you remember? Can you not remember? But can you imagine what my grandfather must have felt in 1877 and 1896? I'm speaking now of the presidential election of 1876 and the Supreme Court decision of 1896, separate but equal, which really meant separate but never equal, or the election of 1876 that went to the House of Representatives, and a committee of 15 decided who the president would be. And the president who was chosen made a deal to pull all of the troops out of the South. And all of the protections for the newly emancipated slaves were wiped out. And the ex-slave masters took over for the next generations. What did they do? What did they do? They organized institutions like Spelman College, Morris Brown College, Tuskegee Institute, Bethune-Cookman College — now Bethune-Cookman University — eventually the NAACP and the Urban League, and later the Association for the Study of Negro Life and History. All of this took place under or within an era of betrayal. These are the lessons of hope I think we must present in moments of despair. And if we do not, we create a platform for suicide and genocide. Because all racism points to genocide. And sometimes it's legal, quote, unquote. And I think we are obligated to communicate that kind of message. When was Martin Luther King Jr. born? 1929. What happened in 1929? The stock market crashed, the Great Depression was introduced, but Martin Luther King Jr. was born. And in Europe, Anne Frank was born. When Martin Luther King Jr. was on his way to college, entering college, during his first year in college, Anne Frank was in a concentration camp. But the diary, the diary lives on, written in hiding in an attic, where every knock was a knock of terror. But the diary educates us still. And I think that's the kind of message that somebody is waiting to hear. Victor Hugo, who was in exile for, I believe, 20 years, did his best writings. And someone asked him about those despairing years, or what could have been despair. He said, Why was I not exiled sooner? Nelson Mandela really wrote his autobiography while he was in prison. It was hidden and slipped out page by page. And when they finally discovered that he had written something that should be destroyed, they found it, but a copy had already been sent out. Therefore, he was running for president on Robben Island. He didn’t have enough time to campaign when he got out. That campaign had been going on for 27 years. So we must tell and retell these stories and tell them in such a way that they are believable and represent, to some extent, what we are talking about. And then we will discover what our ancestors were talking about when they said, Trouble don't last always. So we can do great things in spite of— I started to say, In spite of Trump. That would sound political, wouldn't it? Well, no, it's prophetic. We must learn to live because of. And we must learn to live in spite of. And we must learn to live in memory of. Now, I could take a text, but I will not, because we'll have to also take an offering.
Dee Perry [01:45:25] It's such a great privilege to speak with you. Thank you so much for giving us your time.
Otis Moss [01:45:31] Thank you.
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